Gemellus Evanidus
by sa-shii-mi
Summary: "Again, the deep voices are there. I want to wake up because I know that once they'll be loud enough, I'll be able to understand what they are saying. They tell me I should just be sorry for being born. I'm so weak they say. I want them to stop because when the'll be gone... HE'll be there." IchiShiro, MxM, mentions of rape, very angsty. For Hollow Ichigo - Ichigo :)


**A/N : Hello there ! This is some pretty dark and angsty stuff, so you know. Also, this is my first completed ShiroIchi-fic. I actually have another O-S I keep pushing away since last July because I don't know how to write it in a way that'll please me. Anyway, I was inspired by the song L490 by 30 Seconds To Mars, which happens to give me panic attacks if I listen to it in the dark. But honestly, listen to it repeatedly while reading this! **

**Also, no beta so point out mistakes please. **** And this is a One Shot!**

**Hollow Ichigo Ichigo: If you're reading this: It's not the one I was telling you about but he, I'll dedicate this to you for reminding me the existence of my beloved Shiro. **

**WARNING: Mentions of rape, angst, Male on Male, suicide. **

**REVIEWS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME! Drop them off if you feel like it. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Gemellus Evanidus**

I don't even know when it started. My life was normal: I had an average job, an average two months relationship and an average apartment. Nothing special, you see?

Then, suddenly, _it _popped up.

And the worst part of it is I can't do anything against it.

* * *

I can hear _it._ At first it's a low grumble that doesn't make any sense. It becomes louder and louder. The words are still unclear, but the rumble gradually fills my head more and more. I feel like someone is invading my mind. I'm scared. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Get out. GET OUT!

I jolt up, screaming in the void. I stare at the complete darkness in front of me. I feel like something, someone…_it_… is going to appear out of it. I can see white spots, the contours of something smoky, appear at the foot of my bed.

My mind and senses are going overboard. I can feel every pore of my being sweat. The droplets form salty rivulets that soak my bedspread and mattress. I feel hot. My heart beats so hard, so fast it hurts. I feel like it's trying to crawl up my throat. The erratic drumming as well as my harsh intakes of air are filling my oversensitive hearing. It feels like I can only hear that.

But that's just a feeling.

I can hear _it_. Laughing at me from far away with its lilting, echoing tone.

* * *

Again, the deep voices arrive, like warriors riding on horses nearing the battle front. I want to wake up because I know that once they'll be loud enough, I'll be able to understand what they are saying.

I have been for the past weeks already. They tell me how I'm just a freak, how I should just be sorry for being born. I'm so weak they say. They urge me to slit my wrists open. Their booming voices chant horrible things in my mind. Things that reach my heart. Horrifying things _it _will do to my sisters, to my father, to my friends… to me.

Please, please, stop it! I beg you. Be quiet! Shut up! Shut up! Don't come nearer!

The voices are getting louder, stronger, _more real_. I can't move; _it _won't let me wake up. I'm paralyzed and gasping for air as they tell me things I couldn't even imagine happening in the darkest of worlds.

Again, the voices get so hard that I feel like my skull is going to split in two.

All of a sudden, the invisible force that kept me from rising releases me. I jolt up again, screaming like every night. I'm so glad the walls are soundproof. My skin is scalding hot. Something is crawling under it, going crazy with a flamethrower. And I know who it is.

It's _it._ Cackling loudly while burning my insides with its words and crazed, echoing screams.

* * *

I woke up in the middle of the night again.

The voices, the heat, the images, the familiar faces suffering, and finally _it_, which is getting clearer and stronger. He keeps on laughing with that crazy voice of his. I don't know what _it_ is. I just know it's a man who has white hair and black sclera that surround golden irises. He hates me, he says. He hates me for being weak.

The light of the fluorescent lamp floods the bathroom. It should comfort me. It should make me calm down. The voices can't reach me anymore once I'm awake. _He _can't reach me where the light is. It should be like that; it's logical. But since when is anything logical?

Ever since _he _appeared in my dreams, with his cavalry of booming voices preceding him,my life dropped to a low I never thought I'd reach. My once hated average life vanished. My family, they've become wary of me. They try to hide it but I can see the worry in their eyes. I can see their glances when they think I'm not looking. My father asks me if everything is alright. Yuzu tells me I've gotten thinner and paler. Last time, Karin remarked that I looked weak.

I almost jumped on her to beat her. _Weak._ I can't hear that word anymore. Every night, _he _whispers it my heart. Every night,_ he_ tells me to die because a weak wimp such as me shouldn't live. Every night _he_ screams at me that I'm an accident. That _I _should never had been born.

I have no idea why _he _says that. But all those threats work their magic on my life: My girlfriend left, saying that I changed. I'd like to see her waking up to thousands of voices screaming and yelling at her every time it's dark. My friends advised me that I should go see a doctor. But if I wanted to, I could talk to them anytime, okay?

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My once toned arms have gotten thinner, it's true, but they still have enough force to grip the borders of the sink and leave small cracks behind. My eyes travel from my shaking arms to my rapidly rising chest. I'm still shaken by the last dreams and I know it'll take some time for my breath to even out.

After glaring at the proof of my fear and therefore weakness, my eyes finally meet their equal in the reflection of the mirror. They are probably what has changed the most ever since it started: The once strong, warm coffee brown orbs are not there anymore. Instead erratic, unfocused, weak and lost eyes are staring back at me. They never break the contact with mine. They scare me.

I feel my heart gradually beating harder again. The fear rises in my chest, clogging my throat as a bad feeling settles in my stomach. I have to stop looking. Break the contact. Ichigo, break the contact! Look away! Stop it! Look away, it's dangerous! Look a-

My reflection changes. Orange strands of hair turn a pure white, slightly tanned skin becomes colorless and my eyes…Oh my eyes. Black floods my sclera and gold my irises. My pupils narrow to pinpricks. My colorless lips stretch upwards, showing teeth as a face-splitting wicked grin blooms on my, no, _his _face. His eyes have that crazy shine flickering in them. He licks his lips with his abnormally blue tongue.

This all happens so fast. Two seconds ago, a weak version of myself was shaking and pleading me with its gaze for all of this to stop.

Now, the demon that has caused all of this is looking at me, completely still except for that growing grin of his.

And suddenly, he lunges forward, to hurt or probably kill me.

I jump back, stumbling and my destabilized feet get caught in the carpet. My back slams against the cold, hard wall behind me. As black spots flood my vision, my head jerks up to check the reflection.

The lost redhead is back. His wide eyes are begging me to stop it all. Tears are appearing at the corners. He looks exhausted. Pale sweating skin stretches over tense shaking muscles. Soaked orange strands almost cover up the haunting eyes that once were mine. The man parts his crackled lips as he whispers pleadingly in my voice:

"Let's just end everything, please."

* * *

I know I should get used to it. After three months of sleepless nights, after ninety-two days of mental torture and pain, my heart should be immune. But no, the fear and the hurt are always there. They get stronger. The reason is that I know what will follow what. This is like a horror movie that you watch over and over again. You know when the things will happen but you can't help but hope for a change. Though deep inside, you know that's impossible.

So, here I am again, unable to move my limbs as some invisible poison flows through my system. All I can do is entangle myself more and more in my sweat drenched sheets. I can't breathe. The air doesn't pass through my windpipe. Air! Air! I need it! Finally, as the booming voices get unbearable, my eyes open wide.

I'm so shocked that I can't even scream.

Golden irises surrounded by black sclera stare back at me. That damned grin spreads over his white face like wildfire. I can't look away.

_He _is looming over me, his naked form sitting on my chest, making it difficult to breathe or to move. Strangled cries leave my lips. Then I hear his voice. It's echoing in the whole bedroom, filling the darkness:

"Look at yourself, my _dear King_." His voice sounds like acid. "You are so pathetic. You can't even win against someone who's in your own head. _Weak little shit_. Just give up already. Fucking kill yerself already. They all already think you're a loon. You have nothing left. _No one loves you._ Die and leave this to me."

He chuckles. The sound makes the fine hairs on my body stand. But even if I want to bow down to his desires a small stubborn part of me refuses to do so.

"No." I whisper firmly.

"Are ya sure, King?" He says. His eyes rake over my sweating, naked body as his blue tongue peaks out to wet his snowy lips.

I can't find my voice as dread and bottomless fear fills my gut but I still manage to nod.

_He _tilts his head, seemingly reflecting in something, before his grin grows and pure malice fills his orbs.

And that's when the pain begins.

* * *

They say it's Alopecia Areata.

Apparently some nightly fright would have caused my hair to turn white overnight. I say nothing as they explain it to me in laymen's terms. I can't even speak save for a few basic words. But even if I could, I'd probably just tell them that they are wrong.

They are so wrong. They have no idea. Those doctors think it's a chemical reaction but _it's not_.

It's _his _doing. He wants me to suffer. He wants me to remember everything. His goal is to take over my mind and consequentially my body. And even if it's hard to admit, I have to say he's doing great.

Every time I catch a glance of myself in a reflecting surface, I can see the white hair. And then I remember everything.

The unfathomable pain as he plunged into me roughly.

His length making my insides burn and bleed. His trusts stripping me of all pride, confidence or whatever feeling I ever possessed.

His words hurt but _that_ tore all my last resistance down. I can still feel his cold hands scratching my skin before gripping my hips. The sounds of skin harshly slapping against skin as he tore into me with all his animalistic strength and his hate resound in my mind all the time. His evil laughter as I cried and begged him to stop is like an earworm.

His final words before he vanished into the darkness don't leave me alone:

"I will take you down, King. I will take your life, as you took mine."

* * *

He hasn't appeared for almost a week now.

I can't relax though. He's bad, he's evil. He's a demon. If he's not coming, it's probably to give me a bit of hope he'll crush with a grin on his face afterwards.

I can feel him taking over. My white hair is enough proof for that.

Every night I cry, wondering why he chose me. I don't know him. Why would he do this to me? I don't know.

During the day, I just sit in my empty apartment, not caring if it's dirty. I don't even reply to the messages and phone calls anymore. Not that there are many of them.

Who cares about a loon anyways?

* * *

He came back last night.

I knew the peace wouldn't last forever.

But what he did last night… I'm sure it's one of his tactics to render me completely mad.

After the booming voices split my head and I woke up screaming, I saw him sitting on my bed. His glowing body was naked and as pure as white besides his chest, where red stripes converged towards his heart.

_He _didn't come nearer to me as he studied my face and said in his watery voice:

"You know, Ichi, it would have been so much easier if you had let me win all those years ago."

I couldn't hear any mockery in his tone.

Then his long white fingers stretched out and he gently stroked my cheek. His black fingernails grazed the tender skin a bit before he retracted his hand and vanished into thin air, leaving me alone in the dark again.

* * *

Cold wind whips my reddened cheeks.

The fresh sensation is pure bliss. For the first time in months I _feel _something. I mean, something else than fear, loss and hurt. But I know all good things come to an end.

After his strange behavior that night, _he _went back to the horrible methods he'd used to destroy me. Every night, for weeks, the same again. The mental torture, the physical pain… I can't take it anymore.

My toes are peeking over the border of the tall building. They have turned numb a long time ago, but that doesn't really matter anymore, does it? I look at the endless void between me and unsuspecting passengers. I should be scared but I'm not.

_He _appears next to me. We're alone on the roof. It's dark up here. Yet I can see him as if projectors were directed at him. _He _looks at the horizon lying in front of us, not saying anything. For the second time ever since the beginning, he doesn't grin. He looks like he's thinking deeply. He closes his eyes and breathes in slowly.

"I'm sorry for not being a strong enough horse, King." He says calmly, his voice full of regret.

Golden eyes open again, full of determination.

Then he turns to me slowly. Our eyes connect. I feel unusually relaxed. I should be shaking but a deep inner peace settles in the very core of my heart. A genuine smile stretches over his traits.

It's strange; I've never noticed how much he looks like me. He's an exact copy of me except that he's completely white. As if someone had absorbed all of his colors.

I return his smile without even thinking. I feel more complete than I ever did in my whole life. His cold hand wraps around my warm one. The sun starts to flood the city with its rays.

We both take a step forth and let the wind enfold us in its cold embrace.

The last thing I hear and ever will is his loving voice:

"We're together at last, my baby twin."

* * *

**A/N: I cried at the end. I actually didn't think about anything while writing so the fic might sound freaky and illogical. **

**Anyways, if you're confused: **

**Yes, Ichigo committed suicide in the end. And Shiro was Ichi's twin but got eaten by the latter. It's a tragic phenomenon called 'vanishing twin' (hence the title, in Latin –which I studied for five years – even if the term's originally in English) where the stronger twin 'absorbs' the weaker twin. But Shiro estimates he's the stronger one and therefore feels that he should have lived. But he's Ichi's twin, so he loves him. Shirosaki is a really complex being… Also, Alopecia Areata is an illness that may cause your hair to turn white after a shock or fright. Some say it could happen overnight but some say it's not like that. Also, not sure if I should've put 'hints of incest/rape' in the warnings… sorry :/**

**LEAVE YOUR REVIEWS AND IMPRESSIONS PLEASE! **


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